


Better Now

by raendown



Series: NaNoWriMo 2020 Drabbles [18]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 08:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21296354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Hashirama comes to Madara for help dealing with a grievous injury. Very serious indeed.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: NaNoWriMo 2020 Drabbles [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533161
Comments: 12
Kudos: 148





	Better Now

“Madaraaaaaa!”

The man in question did not jolt or jump, though it was a close call. All that saved him was years of experience dealing with the sudden bursts of excitement that came with having Hashirama in one’s life. To survive a man like him one needed to get used to things like that.

Or things like having the Hokage of their grand village sprint around the corner with one hand holding the other out in front of him and tears in his eyes. Madara was tempted to rub the bridge of his nose – and so he did. He’d never been the type to hide it when he was irritated no matter that he did his best to suppress any other emotion that crossed his unwary mind.

“Do I want to know?” he asked.

“It hurts!” Hashirama wailed.

Madara pinched his lips together and took a deep breath through his nose. The patrol schedules he was working on needed to be done by the end of the day. He had a report to read after that on the repairs needed to their sewage system. So many different things were screaming for his attention and yet he already knew he was going to put them all aside for Hashirama. He always did. But he also always made sure the man understood how annoying it was to have his work so constantly interrupted.

“Show me.”

With a wobbling lip Hashirama shoved his hand over top of the schedules his first advisor had been working so hard on and stood as still as his natural energy would allow him. Madara dutifully inspected the appendage given, already exasperated. He only grew more so when he spotted the very tiny reddened area on the tip of one finger. A splinter. Their Hokage had come crying to him in the middle of the work day…over a splinter.

“Damn,” he said in a bland drawl. “This must really be bad if you’re actually admitting you’re in pain.”

“It _does_ hurt! Help me take it out!”

“Shouldn’t you be able to handle a little wooden splinter by yourself?” Despite his own attitude Madara was already jerking the hand closer to himself and reaching for the tweezers in his top desk drawer, a small tool he would neither admit to keeping in his office at all times nor ever reveal the reason why. His overgrown eyebrows were his own business.

At the very least Hashirama managed not to move around too much during the delicate operation. He fluttered both feet against the floor and rattled his other hand on the desk in a broken rhythm but the grievously wounded fingers managed to keep themselves still while Madara gently plucked at the tiny splinter he had no doubt picked up from fiddling with his own Mokuton instead of working. That was one particular bad habit no one had ever been able to cure him of. Although usually he amused himself with growing flowers, on occasion his two closest advisors came to check on his paperwork and found the desk littered with tiny wooden figurines instead.

Madara grunted with satisfaction when the splinter finally came loose, holding it up for Hashirama to inspect before clicking the tweezers over his garbage can to knock it in and quickly letting go of the hand in his grasp.

“Need anything else?” he demanded gruffly.

“Kiss it better?” Hashirama clapped his free hand over his mouth at the same time as Madara's head snapped up to bore in to him with narrowed eyes.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing! I said nothing! I didn’t want you to kiss it better!”

Even as Hashirama winced and continued to backtrack – poorly – Madara's thoughts raced. This was hardly the first time they’d had a moment like this and each time before he had brushed it off as just his best friend’s exuberance, his natural affinity for being overly affectionate with everyone around him. Usually Madara tried to remind himself that Hashirama hugged his brother just as often as he himself got pulled in to those distractingly muscled arms.

But today, today he paused. That hand was still close enough. Izuna always did tell him he would never get what he wanted without taking chances.

Hashirama fell utterly still in a way he almost never achieved when Madara snatched the hand still hovering over his work and pulled it up the last few inches to press a kiss against the reddened area. Never in his life had he felt so ridiculous. In an instant his cheeks were twice as red as the finger he’d just de-splintered but he barely had any time to second guess himself.

“Oh.” Voice soft and shaking, Hashirama shuffled closer. “_Oh_. Oh Madara!”

Moment later he was flopping down across the desk, taking hold of Madara's collar with his opposite hand, and pulling them in for a messy kiss more eager than skilled.

Madara wanted to yell at him that he was a terrible kisser. He wanted to scream that this was inappropriate behavior for the work place. Instead he melted in his chair while the rest of his face turned red to match his cheeks and kissed back as he had been so shamefully dreaming of for so long. Maybe it was fine to take a little break from work just this once. And maybe it was fine that he’d taken the chance he’d never dared to before.

And maybe – just maybe – he was happier than he’d ever been to have Hashirama drown him in the affections he would never admit he enjoyed so much.


End file.
